


law & order: skz special - sincerely, someone who doesn’t watch law & order

by the_word_chemist



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Blood, Mild Language, Platonic Relationships, it’s not as bad as it sounds in the long run, i‘m so so aroace i can’t promise any semblance of romance i’m sorry fkshdknwkdnw, music major han jisung, police officer kim seungmin, read the warnings pretty please, seungsung found family, yeah just read the notes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:21:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24192751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_word_chemist/pseuds/the_word_chemist
Summary: His shaky legs nearly gave out as he reached the door. Pounding on the wood, his voice failed him the first time he tried to yell. One knock, two knocks, three knocks, four knocks, is anyone there?Five knocks. What if the creep came back to life?Six knocks. What if there’s no one working at 2 a.m.?Seven knocks. What if they ignored him on purpose?Eight knocks. What if they already knew?Nine knocks. He wasn’t running from the law, why was he in trouble?Ten knocks-Swiftly, the door creaked open and found Jisung falling into the empty space.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han & Kim Seungmin, Han Jisung | Han/Kim Seungmin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 0

**Author's Note:**

> hi hello i’m back from my cave to give you another fic (that i definitely plan on finishing this time!)  
> a huge ginormous loving shout out to all my friends who i bombarded with questions and plots and drafts and editing on this, y’all’re the og’s and i adore you :(((  
> also i’m posting this from my phone cause ao3 is blocked on my laptop so i hope the formatting doesn’t get messed up! it’s not fancy but i’d like to know what i’m putting out there~
> 
> ok! so warnings, because this does take a turn :) if you don’t get affected by anything then by all means proceed without any kind of spoilers, but starting in the next few lines i’ll be giving a brief list of what this chapter entails so you can read safely! i don’t generally get affected by words so i’m playing it safe and naming everything about what i wrote that i think could be harmful if you go in blind:  
> \- sexual harassment in the form of mentioning sexual acts in an inappropriate setting  
> \- mentions of nonconsensual touching  
> \- mild/graphic depictions of blood  
> \- what could be interpreted as a panic attack  
> \- minor character death 
> 
> hopefully i named everything without giving away stuff, if i missed something and you’d like me to include it in this note just drop a comment! 
> 
> i hope you enjoy, kudos and comments are great if you wanna show that you liked it!! i’m working on the next chapter right now~!

Jisung was bored out of his mind.

His day had gone by in a flash, his brain barely able to recall anything his profs tried to teach. He drifted through - what was it, music history? - like it was a dream, his professor rattling on and on about Beethoven’s vital role in the switch from the classical to the romantic era and the musical revolution his work sparked. Dr. Seo was impassioned and fascinating on a good day, but his excitement fell short in today’s class in the face of a sleep-deprived Jisung. He could just cover the chapter on his own that night, and that was enough to convince him to put his head down and nap.

Stifling a yawn, the tired composition major focused his attention back on the textbook in front of him. Jisung took the night shift as often as he could for a reason – almost no one ever came by this dingy little convenience store this late so he always had time to study until a customer eventually wandered in. The swinging lights didn’t provide the best atmosphere for taking in information but he’d learned to live with it.

A bell jingled and shook Jisung out of his little dreamland as he raised his head to greet the customer with a cheerful, “welcome to Yang’s Corner Store!”

He paused then, making eye contact with a handsome young man. He looked barely older than Jisung in the dim light, and just a bit taller than him as well. Well dressed, he smiled back at him and dipped his head before ducking into the candy aisle. Considerably more awake, Jisung straightened his shirt and rubbed at his eyes to look a little more refreshed. He shoved the textbook aside, looking to maybe impress this guy. Who knows, maybe he’d stay for a few minutes to talk? The worst part of these nights had always been the loneliness that accompanied them.

Soft pop music sounded in the background as the man emerged with his hands full. A half-embarrassed giggle escaped him as he plopped a few colourful packages and two juice boxes on the clouded counter. “I’m being really healthy tonight, huh?”

Jisung grinned at the little joke, happy that the customer seemed open to conversation. “Yeah, you’re hitting all the major food groups! Sugar, salt, cheese, chocolate,” he listed, pointing at candy and chips accordingly. “And you’ve got some fruits in? That’s gotta be the healthiest meal I’ve seen in a long while.” 

He struggled to keep a straight face the whole time, trying to speak as devoid of emotion as his high school health teacher.  _ Beep! _ The register acknowledged the little box of chocolates and Jisung took his cue to stuff it in a bag.

It paid off to see the way the man’s face lit up with mirth at his stupid joke. “I’d say,” he chuckled.  _ Beep! _ There goes the first pack of gummies. 

“I’m Minho, how are you tonight? Uh…”  _ Beep! _ “Jisung, is it?” And that’s pack two of the gummies.

“That’s me! Han Jisung, cashier extraordinaire,” Jisung added with a flourish.  _ Beep!  _ And the flavoured chips joined the rest. “Are you a university student? You look kind of familiar.” It was a lie, but he’d do anything to keep some company for a little longer.

“Yeah man, I actually live just down the street. It’s a sharehouse but we all go to SNU so we can afford the distance.”  _ Beep! _ He was down to just juice, the cheese puffs falling in the paper bag with all his other snacks.

“Oh word? I go there too!” Jisung got excited at the prospect of seeing Minho again. He might actually be able to befriend someone outside of his major at this rate. “I’m a music composition major, second year,” he said, folding down the top of the paper bag before handing it to Minho. “Do you want the juice in the bag or are you gonna drink them now?”

Minho considered for a second, then grabbed the bag from Jisung. “I’ll just hold them if that’s okay with you,” he said with an easy smile. “As for me, I do dance and linguistics. I’m in my last year for dance but I’m planning on pursuing a higher level in language next year.”  _ Beep! Beep!  _ Jisung quickly scanned the same box twice and slid both back over the counter to the elder.

“That’s insane, I would die if I studied that much.” Jisung ran a hand through his blonde hair nervously, worried about how soon Minho would leave. Surely he wouldn’t cut a conversation this short when they were just getting to know more than each other’s names, right?

Minho fished around for a few bills, momentarily distracted by the wind rushing in as another customer walked in. Jisung called out a greeting, trailing off in favor of focusing on the transaction. Two customers at the same time - this was an unusually busy night, but Jisung focused on counting the money he was handed. For how late he managed to be to almost every shift, he was sure a miscount of payment would be the last straw for his boss to fire him. Collecting the change, the younger dropped a combination of bills in Minho’s waiting hand.

The new customer, seemingly unaware of the ongoing exchange, shouted a greeting back to the pair by the counter. “Ah, good evening! Would you look at the weather tonight, isn’t it just amazing?” 

Jisung jumped in place, shaky hand pressing the money hurriedly into the dance major’s hand. Minho looked curiously behind him, confused by the strange customer. Looking back to Jisung, he raised an eyebrow in question.

Laughing nervously, Jisung pushed the juice toward Minho again. “Are you going to stay any longer? There’s tables if you want to do some homework there.”  _ Please don’t leave me alone. _

Minho smiled, if a little awkwardly, grabbing one juice box and backing away from the counter. “It’s about time I get home; enjoy your juice, Jisung. I hope we can talk again soon!” The bell jingled as he backed out of the store, the sound snapping Jisung out of his little dreamland for the third time that night.

Calling out a little belatedly, the store heard a soft “good night, hyung!” And the door shut with a light  _ thud _ .

Sighing, Jisung poked his straw into the juicebox; cherry-flavoured, that was nice. His fingers itched to grab the textbook he’d set aside for Minho, not wanting to pay the cold convenience store any attention that night, but there was still a customer waiting. The man had continued to make a racket, drifting to the back aisle the moment he walked in; Jisung barely had the chance to get a good look at him when he walked in. He kept making loud comments, as if expecting Jisung to be listening rather than fall asleep. The normal smell of dirt and train fumes that consumed the corner store were replaced by an overwhelming stench of liquor and cigarettes. 

Jisung scrunched his nose up in disgust. He could crack open the windows later, maybe buy one of the store’s candles and light it to clear away the wretched fumes. Remembering where he was, Jisung plastered on his best customer service smile and waited for whoever it was that smelled like a gallon of gasoline. Picking away at the countertop, tapping his jean-clad legs, watching some of the yellow lights swing back and forth from a string; Jisung waited and waited, his smile growing stale. What was taking the customer so long?

He wasn’t super worried. There was nothing overtly dangerous in the shop apart from lighters and knives, both of which were stored behind the dirty glass counter. They sold alcohol, obviously, but Jisung didn’t have anything to worry about there as long as he kept his head. The store was well lit, the street lights and flashing ‘Open’ signs bright enough to shine through the window even with the shitty lighting.

The new customer striding up to the counter broke through Jisung’s exhausted internal monologue, gaining his undivided attention for all kinds of wrong reasons.

The man facing Jisung was unsettling at best. He looked somewhere around his 40’s with the face of a high-school has-been. His perfectly parted hair hung long, dark, and greasy around his face, framing that too-wide grin and gleaming eyes. His forehead wrinkled a little as he narrowed his eyes and focused on Jisung.

His gaze burned the air between him and the counter, eyebags deep and sunken. The man approached the counter with a sense of purpose no one should have at 2 a.m., long legs accentuated by his slacks and dress shoes. Every crease in his navy dress shirt felt too intentional for Jisung’s liking, and he shifted from foot to foot in an attempt to keep his cool.

“Good evening sir, what can I help you with?” His voice came out softer than he would’ve liked; just the sound of his own voice made him feel as though he’d shrunk in the wash. The blonde boy prayed desperately that the man would just slap some items on the glass and pay. 

_ This is just another night shift, it’ll be fine. _ The older man seemed all too aware that it would be too kind of him to let his night go by so easily, flashing a set of yellowing teeth and smothering Jisung with his disgusting breath.

“Hey sweetheart, no need to be so formal with me, eh?” The man’s booming voice made Jisung flinch involuntarily, his smile quickly sliding from his lips. 

“Can I help you find something, sir?” Jisung wanted this night to be over. He didn’t know what it was, or why, but this man made him want to run off into the darkness where he’d never be found again.

The man smirked and leaned against the counter. “Aw, don’t act like that! Come on, I just wanna talk a bit,” he crooned, hand inching its way over to Jisung. The younger shifted back to try and avoid him but the man didn’t get the hint. Grasping his hand firmly, the man continued in a softer tone. “My name’s Joonyoung, what’s yours, cutie?”

Jisung looked away. “Sir, I need to- I’m going to have to ask you to step away, from the counter,” he murmured, wincing at his stutter. Was his vision always this shaky? He needed to visit the eye doctor soon, as soon as he got that nauseating smell away from him.

“Hey, I asked for your name.” Joonyoung’s voice came out sharply, sending a shiver down Jisung’s back. He still hasn't let go, either not noticing how scared the younger boy was or not giving a shit.

“I’m Jisung, could you please let go of my hand now? I need to be able to use the register if you’re planning on buying anything,” he said, his tone just the slightest bit stronger. He knew how to handle overbearing customers; this was just like handling another soccer mom. 

Except this man was visibly stronger than him.

And much taller.

And older.

And maybe Jisung was becoming just a little scared of the night shift.

“Well,  _ Jisung _ .” Said boy nearly retched at the sound of his name. “You don’t have to worry about any of that, I’m not here to buy anything.” The man gripped his hand a little tighter and brought it into the dim light. “And look, your hand is so cute and small in mine! Don’t tell me you want to take it away, yeah?”

Jisung swallowed down a retort, breathing getting heavier. He didn’t want this sort of thing tonight, he couldn’t handle this. He just wanted to finish a Friday shift and sleep at his dorm.

“O-of course not, it’s just-”

“Great!” That smile felt like a huge flashing red light but Jisung’s voice refused to yield to his instincts.

“Say darling,” Joonyoung started leaning over the counter now, not content to stay on one side. “What’re you doing later tonight? Got anywhere to be?”

Jisung shuddered at the tone of his voice, and the older man took that as a signal to start reaching over the counter with his free up hand. He towered over the counter as he tucked Jisung’s hair behind his ear with a single clammy finger; the man was easily a head taller than the blonde boy. Jisung’s only advantage would be his right hand, reaching under the glass to reach for something, anything that could get him out of this mess.

“I-” His voice broke off into a whisper as Joonyoung’s left hand grabbed at his waist. “I was planning on going home and helping my coursework- my roommate with his coursework. After closing up,” he added, attempting to even out his breathing as the elder’s hand persisted. 

“Hm, wanna come home with me instead? I know I can be a whole lot more fun than some homework.” Jisung threw up a little in his mouth at the words, Joonyoung’s hands only getting tighter.

Jisung’s fingers found purchase on a grip just as Joonyoung leaned to whisper in his ear, hands reaching down far too low, and his hands acted before he could even think.

“Bet you’d have a great time sitting pretty on my face-”

Whatever Joonyoung was trying to say was lost to a choking sound in the back of his throat. In that moment, Jisung had unthinkingly grabbed one of the pocket knives, frightened out of his mind, and shoved the blade through the space right below Joonyoung’s sternum. The squelch of blood running down Jisung’s hand felt too loud to be real; he jerked his hand back, trying to escape the sickeningly warm sensation. The store reeked of liquor and fuel that took on a metallic quality within seconds. The taller man fell to the counter, blood overflowing and slicking up the glass. Jisung’s ears were muffled as he heard the man grunt as he dropped to the ground, unmoving. Shaking, he dropped the knife, barely noticing the way it nicked his hand on the way down. 

There’s no way this was happening. 

Jisung just killed a man. 

_ No, no, no, this can’t- _

Jisung couldn’t fix this, he needed to do something. He slid to the floor, supporting himself with the cloudy glass that hid away all the weapons.

_ This isn’t real, why are we dreaming? How do we fix this? _

He vaguely felt himself lift off the ground, but he couldn’t recall grabbing the mop handle. The mop squeaked against glass and linoleum, a muffled sound reaching his ears. 

_ Fucking- you  _ killed _ someone, you piece of shit- _

_ Jisung, you’re a criminal, we’ll end up in prison- _

A choked off cry escaped his throat and the squeaking of his shoes was lost under the sounds of the city. Suddenly everything was too loud; there were so many cars racing by outside. The radio was supposed to play just loud enough to be heard and yet it blared like a siren. The flickering ‘open’ signs from neighboring shops and street lights buzzed around Jisung’s head as he desperately mopped at the counter, smearing blood all over the display. He kicked the body by accident and was painfully reminded of the cut on his leg from the stairwell that morning.

_ What are we gonna do, Jisung? How can we face our family, our friends? They’ll see right through- you won’t even walk through the front door before Eric kicks you out- _

_ Just turn us in, the police will know the law- _

_ The law is to not kill people, idiot! _

_ And our job is to be a proper citizen! _

Jisung felt dizzy. Where was his water bottle? Did he leave it at school again?

What did he eat for lunch? He couldn’t recall a single thing that could upset his stomach this much.

A rank odor suffused through the store, the stench of gasoline and tobacco mixing with blood and decay, beer dripping into the puddle from broken bottles on the counter. Jisung didn’t want to look at the sight below him, didn’t want to face the mess he was making. A coughing fit overtook his senses, throat drier than a desert. The harder he seemed to scrub, the further the stain reached and a sob cut through the coughs as he scoured the ground, getting on his knees to press harder.  _ As if that would help, _ the voice in his head taunted. 

Jisung was a  _ criminal _ .

Tears mixed with the filthy, salty, frothy solution on the ground as their source stilled. He couldn’t fix the problem, he couldn’t fathom a way out. He needed to fix this, the law had a purpose. He’d likely be kicked out of school, fired, disowned, thrown into a maximum security prison. His life would waste away there…

But it’s what he needed to do, he told himself. The bell jingled almost mournfully as Jisung ran out the front door to Yang’s Corner Store, sure he’d never return.

Rain was hardly the biggest of Jisung’s worries as he sprinted down the road, garnering more than a few glares from drunks and the elderly. Sobs wracked his chest as he ran. Droplets pelted his face, growing progressively larger as the hour wore on. He barely had half a clue as to where he was going, but he knew he couldn’t stop. 

He couldn’t stop; not to fix his shoe when it started slipping off his left foot; couldn’t stop to adjust his shirt on his body, be it sweat or rain or blood that was making it cling to him. He kept going, not stopping even to wipe away his tears after running for ten minutes and getting hopelessly lost, and then finding his bearings within the next five. 

Jisung’s vision blurred beyond imagination  _ (keep moving, just keep moving) _ as he stumbled down the road, heart beating out of his chest. He knew the police station was down the road, that was  _ (it’ll be alright, push past the pain!) _ the first thing he figured out when he started at SNU, and it was that knowledge that propelled him further still. 

_ (Just a bit more, just one more step.) _

His shaky legs nearly gave out as he reached the door. Pounding on the wood, his voice failed him the first time he tried to yell. One knock, two knocks, three knocks, four knocks,  _ is anyone there? _

Five knocks.  _ What if the creep came back to life? _

Six knocks.  _ What if there’s no one working at 2 a.m.? _

Seven knocks.  _ What if they ignored him on purpose? _

Eight knocks.  _ What if they already knew? _

Nine knocks.  _ He wasn’t running from the law, why was he in trouble? _

Ten knocks-

Swiftly, the door creaked open and found Jisung falling into the empty space. His legs had had enough, and he croaked out a few words into the officer’s chest - how long was the officer there? - while he could.

“I didn’t mean- he wouldn’t leave- I’m a criminal! I’m so sorry, I should be killed- I’m so,” he hiccuped, “so, so sorry.”

Finally, he let the black edges of his vision take over and fell asleep.

  
  



	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungmin finds a child? More information coming to you live from an unspecified location!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi!! thank you so so much for reading more than just the first chapter!!! i hope i didn’t make you think i was capable of being serious for the whole story djjsjdksnfksnskq this is a whole lot more lighthearted than the summary and chapter 0 makes it seem !
> 
> a disclaimer for this whole fic: i have zero clue how south korean law enforcement and legal processes work, i feel like i should get that out there right off the bat. i’m an american teenager, i wouldn’t expect any of this to align with how the real world works. but hey, it’s just fiction y’know? let’s just pretend my logic governs this place, it’ll make it a lot easier to digest lol
> 
> seungmin’s a sweetheart, jisung’s kind of a little bitch for a while but we love him, and chanminlix are just mentioned! i’ll have more next time, enjoy~!
> 
> if you like this, feel free to leave a comment or kudos! it helps to know there are people out there reading ^-^

It was another rainy night in Seoul and Seungmin was getting a little sick of hearing the same playlist all week. He’d prepared a playlist for rainy weather, full of soft ballads and a few more upbeat ones to lighten the mood when he felt overwhelmed by stacks of paperwork. He usually didn’t have full reign of the speakers as Felix regularly accompanied him on night shifts, but he’d taken sick leave for the week; the man swore up and down to anyone who would listen that he was dying from the flu when he turned in the form claiming his days off.

Seungmin knew he just wanted a break. The night shift rarely saw activity in the city, surprisingly enough, but Felix spent extra hours at the station almost every day and Seungmin didn’t have it in him to call him out on it in front of the team. He was just glad to see his friend sleeping normally.

The whole week, the older officers at the station had offered to take Felix’s place and give Seungmin some company, but they asked him earlier if he minded staying alone for the night. They were dead tired, they claimed.  _ (“We’re just looking to hit the hay for a bit, if anything happens we’ll be just a call away!”) _ Surely this, how they left the whole station under the care of their youngest officer for the whole night, was the most irresponsible thing they’ve done yet. This whole situation was ridiculous, but Seungmin had always known his team was full of idiots who didn’t know how to take care of themselves. He’d waved them all off, assuring them he’d cover their work and not a soul would find out. Their station was just the smallest in the city anyway, it wasn’t like they were leaving citizens defenseless.

He’d given them an unwavering go ahead, and regretted it more with every passing second.

Nearly slamming his head into the desk for the third time that night, Seungmin groaned and skipped another song. The rain never let up, and it hadn’t shown any signs of doing so for a week or two. He’d invested in a work blanket after the third day, and was seriously considering sleeping in the station overnight until the weather cleared up. Nothing could survive in that downpour. He was convinced of the fact, especially after his poor little Felicia the iris had died from overwatering. 

A brighter tune blasted through the speakers and the young officer’s ears perked up a little. Maybe this was what he needed, a little something to hum along to? 

After a quick signature, Seungmin was done with yet another stack of papers. He replaced the cap to the pen, humming louder and singing lyrics when he knew them. Dancing a little on his way to the filing cabinet, Seungmin dropped a paper-clip bound stack into the divorce folder. Usually he’d feel bad for enjoying himself on his way to break apart marriages but he’d been beyond emotions since midnight. And besides, a good shimmy never hurt anyone.

He kept moving, returning to his desk with the same flair and an equally sized bundle of work. He could be optimistic! He was almost done, at least 75% finished with work and then he could grab his blanket, turn on his sleep playlist, and catch a nap before the day shift-

_ BANG! _

Seungmin’s eyes shot open at the noise.

Two more knocks rang out in the empty office. A fourth sounded, bringing the officer out of his little shock. 

Who the hell was up this late, knocking five, six times, so frantically?

Slow to the uptake, Seungmin remembered with a start that he was the only on duty officer. With the seventh knock, he kicked back his chair and dashed across the room. The correct question to ask would be not who it was, but what they’d gone through to reach an eighth knock.

The ninth knock started losing steam, still frantic.  _ No, don’t fail now, keep knocking, I’m almost there _ , Seungmin nearly cried out.  _ Stay awake, alive, whatever you need! _

He yanked the door open, interrupting the tenth knock and catching two armfuls of human. That part was expected, but what startled him was the vivid red stains on this boy’s shirt. It was obvious what it was, but the sheer size of the stain on such a slight figure terrified the man. Coming to his senses, Seungmin pulled the shivering boy close to his chest and slammed the door shut.

“Hey, can you hear me?” Seungmin shook the boy’s shoulder to no avail. Quickly, he checked for a pulse on his wrist and calmed down a little bit seeing that he was definitely alive. Breathing a little easier, he hefted the boy up a bit more, lifting his legs up by the crook of his knees and supporting his back. He nearly threw him into the air, not expecting him to be as light as he was.

“Jesus, kid, what’s happened to you?” Seungmin murmured to the empty room, making his way back to his desk. Using one leg to drag a few chairs out to the middle of the room, he lined them up and laid the blonde boy down on his makeshift bed. He supposed he’d have to give up his blanket in a few minutes; the boy hadn’t stopped shivering, even through unconsciousness.

Propping him up on the back of one of the chairs, he inspected the boy’s shirt as closely as he could without undressing him. There was no darker patch that would indicate a wound but he couldn’t be sure until the boy told him what happened. His left hand had a little nick in the side, but nothing that could’ve bled enough to drench his whole shirt and then some. The cloth was exceedingly bloody for a reason Seungmin would simply have to find out soon enough.

Abandoning his search for a wound that obviously didn’t exist, Seungmin turned his attention to the boy’s foot. For some reason he only had one shoe, and his right foot looked severely bruised and cut. He cringed at the sight of all the slices on the bottom of the mystery kid’s foot. Running over to their supply cabinet, he grabbed the station’s bare-bones first aid kit they had on deck for emergencies and got to work on pulling out little pieces of debris from the kid’s feet. Bloodied glass, pebbles and dirt, even a piece of what looked like a gum wrapper.

How far did this kid have to run for his foot to be this fucked up?

Seungmin washed everything out when he’d removed all debris, and started disinfecting the cuts and scrapes. Each time he went in with a fresh dose of rubbing alcohol the boy would flinch away from him and wince a little, tugging at the officer’s heartstrings. Red stained tissue littered the ground around the little cluster of chairs. He wasn’t all too worried about making a mess in case he could avoid an infection for the boy but he made a note that he’d have to clean a lot more at some point.

Satisfied with what he could do, Seungmin quickly wrapped the boy’s foot up in gauze and a cloth bandage. It was a shoddy job but it would hold long enough for him to heal. 

The boy still shivered, breathing sharply every few seconds. 

The officer mumbled to himself a list of little tasks he needed to do; he grabbed his blanket from the closet as he kept the first aid kit away again. It was decorated with cartoon dogs and exceptionally warm, so with a twinge of regret he draped it over the boy and tucked him in. He could afford a new one if the kid’s shirt stained his blanket, but he’d have to kiss his nap goodbye.

Now that he got past the panic, he took a minute to actually examine the kid in front of him. He looked on the young side, the pallor adding a few years to an otherwise youthful face. His cheeks filled out nicely, offset by dark circles indicative of a few too many sleepless nights. That barely narrowed down whether he was a high school student or university, but it did add a level of concern to the rising feeling in his chest. Worry gnawed at Seungmin’s heart at the way the boy clenched his jaw and twitched about, dreams plagued by demons he couldn’t dispel. A slight comfort came in the form of the boy’s shivers coming to a halt after a few minutes. At the very least, the blanket hasn't managed hurt him further.

Taking in the boy’s blonde hair and small shoulders for a final time, the officer sighed and returned to his desk. The boy would be fine. Seungmin would keep an eye on him, but there was still paperwork to be done before the sun rose. He cracked his knuckles and picked up a pen.

Back to work.

-

The clock on Seungmin’s stack of books read 2:57 a.m. when he was interrupted again. A shrill call rang from the station telephone, startling him before he scrambled to pick up.

“Hello, Seoul Police Station E, what seems to be the problem?”

The scream on the other end shook him awake. “There’s been a murder!”

“Ok sir, are you safe right now?” Grabbing his notebook, Seungmin started jotting down notes about anything he could observe.

“I’m fine, there’s no one else here but the dead guy and my buddy here.” A little noise of disgust could be heard through the line.

“That’s good, where are you right now?”

“I’m in a corner store by the train station, I think it’s called Yang’s or something?”

_ Yang’s, train station, bl-  _ “Can you describe the scene for me? And refrain from touching anything please, you and your friend both.”

“Oh, sure, hold on,” the man said, a faint  _ ‘oi, stop touching the magnets, dumbass!’ sounded  _ and he was back on the phone. “It’s real messy here, there’s blood everywhere. I’m pretty sure it’s already staining the floor, there’s a bloody knife next to the body. It smells horrendous in here, like someone did a goddamn keg stand and pissed all over the floor. I bet you anything the guy was an alcoholic, that’s gotta be it-” 

“Thank you for that, is that all you could find without touching anything?” 

_ Blood, knife = weapon??, smell still there. _

The officer didn’t have time to joke with the man on the phone. He texted the head of forensics team specialists to investigate the location he’d sent them. This would be an easy crime to solve, especially if the killer hasn't worn any gloves. 

“That’s it. Are you sending anyone over?” The man, if he’d noticed Seungmin’s clipped tone, didn’t seem offended in the slightest. He was grateful for this little good in the night.

“I am, I just contacted our forensics team. You and your friend should stay there, even if you didn’t witness the murder.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw a movement. Hastily ending the call, he offered a half-hearted “thank you for reporting and cooperating, the team will be able to run the procedure by you two.”

Not waiting for an answer, Seungmin clicked down his phone, turning his full attention to the waking boy. He rushed over and knelt by the makeshift cot, badge clipped on and eyes warm.  _ To facilitate trust _ , he rationalized, and to give this poor kid some comfort in a new environment. 

“Hey, I’m Officer Kim Seungmin. Can you tell me your name?” A surefire way to start up conversation with a teenager! Nice going Seungmin, you’ve still got it.

“Uh, I’m Han Jisung,” the boy mumbled. He looked up with wide brown eyes as he settled into an upright seated position, stumbling over words. “Why are you- when are you gonna arrest me?”

Seungmin chuckled nervously, remembering the way Jisung made his entrance. “Jumping right into the big stuff, huh?” 

At the boy’s blank stare, he shifted a little to look him in the eye. “Ok kiddo, do you mind telling me why you think I’m going to arrest you?”

“Because you should. I’m a murderer, I should be in jail!” Jisung’s voice slowly raised in volume, breaking on the last word. Regaining his composure, he straightened his posture and glared at the older. “Why am I not in an interrogation room? Isn’t that what you do, arrest killers?”

“Slow your roll, I don’t go arresting everyone I see! If you want to follow protocol to the letter, we can do that. Would that make you more comfortable?” 

Jisung looked taken aback, like he wasn’t expecting to be asked what he wanted. Quickly he settled back into a frown. “That doesn’t matter, just throw me in jail.” He seemed adamant on that one bit.

Changing tactics, the officer stood back up and held out his hand, palm up. He propped one hand on his hip as he leveled the younger boy with a stern look. Jisung definitely watched too many crime shows, but if this would get him to work with him Seungmin could play the part of a ‘business-only’ police officer. 

“I’ll need to see your ID, please,” he demanded. The boy scrambled to grab his wallet and shoved it in his hand.

Next to a few bills and receipts, a student ID issued by SNU read:  _ Han Jisung, year two, _ with a few details for a meal plan and career counseling _.  _ A once over told Seungmin that the boy definitely matched the picture, and he put the card back in his wallet and gave it back.

“So, why are you here?” Seungmin said, raising an eyebrow. He still barely had a clue what was going on, distracted by getting a murder call on the same night that this strange student showed up.

Jisung shifted a little, tapping his fingers on his leg. “I killed someone. I should be in prison.” He wasn’t looking Seungmin in the eye, not yet.

“Elaborate for me, what happened tonight? Run your day by me.”

The boy head shot up at the question and he glared, snapping at the officer. “Isn’t it enough to know I’m a murderer? Why are you trying to get more information?”

Seungmin took a deep breath before kneeling back down next to Jisung. “I need to know so I don’t go making wrong accusations. You haven’t told me where you were, what you were doing, who you killed, or anything. I can’t do anything without that information, no matter how much you seem to want to go to jail.” 

The officer tried to suppress the twitch of amusement in the corner of his mouth as Jisung processed his words. Aside from the total lack of information, he didn’t believe this kid and needed proof he wasn’t just taking the fall for someone else. Murderers almost never turned themselves in and Seungmin was determined to figure out what was going on here.

“I’m also going to record our conversation starting now. I don’t intend to share the tape with anyone unless it is necessary, but we like to have a record of everything in these proceedings.”

Bouncing his leg, Jisung gave a curt nod of acknowledgement and watched as Seungmin grabbed the recording device from his desk, set it up, and hit the button to start. 

“Han Jisung, please describe what happened tonight,” he prompted.

“I told you, I killed someone. It’s not that hard to grasp,” Jisung said with a self-satisfied expression.

Groaning, Seungmin dragged a hand across his face. “What do I have to do to get you to tell me what I need to know?” 

“I’m not talking,” he crowed, clutching the blanket close to himself. Seungmin was quickly getting the sense that the younger boy had a flair for the dramatic, as he spat blood on the floor next to his feet.

Seungmin stood in stunned silence as the younger sat with a smug look on his face, trying to figure out a way to ask about...whatever the hell that was.

“What, you live under a rock?” Jisung leaned back in his chair and burrowed deeper into the blanket. “I’m not bleeding but I’m not saying anything other than what I did. Make the arrest, do the police thing.”

Of course Jisung wouldn’t talk willingly. Seungmin’s eyes darted around the room, looking for something that could incentivize this little bastard into talking. His eyes narrowed on the mini-fridge by his desk, remembering what he had bought that morning. Never before had he been this grateful for skipping dessert with dinner. “So, you’re not talking? Not even a little bit?” 

Seungmin grinned as Jisung took the bait and shook his head furiously. “I’ve told you everything I need to!”

God, this kid better like cake.

“Then I hope you won’t mind me finishing my dinner. It’s been such a long night, I really need something in my system,” Seungmin complained loudly. Blocking Jisung’s view of the inside of the fridge, he brought out his small strawberry cheesecake. Brandishing it like a lantern in a dark cavern, he dragged his chair over to the boy and opened the box. 

The boy seemed curious if his widened eyes had anything to say about it. “Is that cheesecake?”

Bingo. “Yeah, I wanted to treat myself a little after such a long week,” he said casually, leaning back a little to relax the atmosphere. “You want a piece, kid?”

Jisung’s eyes brightened. “You mean it? Cheesecake is my favorite food ever! I’m so hungry, I don’t think I’ve eaten all day-” 

He cut himself off, maybe realizing where he was. Hesitantly, he asked, “would you- is it really okay for me to have some?”

“Sure it is,” the officer said, cutting into it before pausing: “But cake is for talkers.” He flashed a smile at the student before setting the cake down beneath his chair and clasping his hands. “So tell me what happened, and we can share some desert. How does that sound?”

Hopeful, he caught Jisung’s eyes and silently begged him to cooperate. “Do you think you could tell me what happened tonight?”

“I,” the boy started off cautiously. “Well, I was working the night shift at my job. I work at Yang’s Corner Store, it’s by the railroads,” he added hastily before continuing, “and I- this student walked in. I was studying so I put my books away and waited for him to pick stuff to buy.”

The gears in Seungmin’s head started turning, and he made a mental note to ask Chan for the tapes after they finished analysing the scene. 

“So we talked a bit. His name was Minho, I don’t remember if he gave me a last name but he’s a fourth year dance and linguistics major if you need to confirm he was there. But we joked around a little about the snacks he got. I was mostly trying to keep him around for company but he was honestly super fun! We talked a little about school too, and then he gave- he left me one of the juice boxes, and-” 

Jisung’s voice broke off and he dropped his gaze to his lap. “It’s ok,” Seungmin murmured. “Can you tell me what happened next? Take your time with it, we’ve got plenty.”

“I, um, this guy, he walked in. Yeah, I was almost done ringing Minho up, and, this guy- he absolutely reeked, I wanted to open a window,” he mumbled into his mouth. “Minho had to leave, and the guy was the only one there. He looked so creepy, and he was saying... _ things. _ ”

Seungmin watched him shut his eyes and grab his elbows, feeling worse about the questioning with every second. About to call off the interrogation, he opened his mouth when another whisper came from the boy.

“He said this, gross thing,” Jisung said, shutting Seungmin up. "He was so unsettling, a-and he touched me- my hand. And then he said something, worse, and I-”

He looked up with pleading eyes. “I- I did- He got-”

Jisung poked his own chest a little, wincing at the touch.

“But, but I did it,” he pushed on shakily. “It was me, I- I had to come here. That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Report crimes, no matter who did it?” The boy searched Seungmin’s eyes for any hint of confirmation that he did the right thing.

“Yeah, you did the right thing, Jisung.” Seungmin let out a breath, almost reaching out to hug the boy before realizing he probably wouldn’t want that kind of interaction. “It took a lot of courage to come here on your own and I’m very proud that you did. I still need to retrieve the store footage of the incident to make a plea for your sentence, but you did well. Thank you.” 

“...May I have some cheesecake now, please?”

Seungmin chuckled, reaching under his chair and splitting it in two. “Grab a fork, kid.”

Jisung dug in the moment he was in an arm’s reach of the plate, shoveling cake into his mouth before slowing when he realized where he was. Seungmin just smiled at the sight before fishing his phone out of his pocket and texting Chan to pick up the security footage he needed. Locking the device, he took another bite to find Jisung wrapped back up in the blanket, on his final piece.

“I’m sorry for ruining this blanket,” the blonde boy piped up. “It’s got blood all over it now.”

“That’s ok, I was planning on getting a new one anyway.” He wasn’t, but it didn’t change the reality. “Does your roommate know you’re not going home tonight?”

Jisung stilled, fork in his mouth. “No, but I can call him,” he mumbled, patting his pockets in search of his phone. Reaching into his back pocket, he dialed a number and held his phone up with a shaky hand. 

“Hey, Eric? Yeah, it’s late, I know. I just wanted to let you know I’m not going to be back tonight, so you should lock the door...no, I’m not avoiding Kevin, I just- I’m not gonna be home, ok? I’ll call you again tomorrow with more details, don’t worry about it. Yes, I had dinner. Yes, I finished studying. Ask Huijun for help, he’s good at maths.” Jisung looked up, meeting Seungmin’s waiting eyes before wrapping up the call.

“I have to go now, sleep and things. Good night!” He listened for a second before giggling. “Just go to bed, you big baby, the dark isn’t gonna do shit...no, I am not answering that! Good _ bye, _ ” he said, hanging up.

Seungmin gave the boy a few seconds before asking his questions. “I have a friend on the forensics team at the corner store, do you want me to ask him to pick up your things? I’m assuming you had textbooks and a backpack there if you were studying,” he added, watching Jisung carefully.

“The only thing I would need is my laptop,” the boy answered. “I’m sure my textbooks and all smell terrible now, but my laptop has all of my music on it.” He fiddled with a flimsy keychain attached to his belt. The jingling it made almost disappeared in the quiet of the station.

“Ok, I’ll tell Chan-hyung to grab it on his way back.” 

An awkward silence fell over the room in the moment, Jisung seemingly determined on looking everywhere except for his only company. Seungmin focused on the cheesecake, working to make quick work of his dessert so he could talk to the student before anyone else arrived. He ate with much more restraint that the college student had shown, but managed to reach the final bite in half the time he usually would while Jisung remained stony-faced.

Seungmin settled in his chair, clearing his throat to address the elephant in the room: “So, let’s discuss your future regarding this...situation.”

Jisung scoffed, slouching as he glared a hole into one of the other desks. “Are you not arresting me?” Maybe Seungmin was a wishful thinker, but was that a hint of hope in the younger boy’s voice?

“The process is more complicated than that, kid. We’ll breeze through it, I just need to touch upon a few key points in this.

“In the immediate future, you will be placed into a holding cell. I’m gonna take a guess and say our station will require forty-eight hours from you. It’s not as bad as it sounds, I’ll bring you books to read or something and you won’t even have to interact with anyone.” 

Jisung nodded along with him, struggling to keep up. The officer slowed his speech accordingly, adding gestures here and there. “While you’re in the holding cell, my team and I will discuss a bail and contact family members who can pay-”

“No!” Jisung interrupted, panic evident on his face. “Please don’t call my family, they already barely tolerate my major. I admitted my crime and I’m willing to serve my time. Can they not be involved until absolutely necessary?”

The boy looked like a kicked puppy that got shoved through a car wash. Seungmin rested his hands on his knees and sighed, trying to figure out what his teenage self would’ve wanted to hear in this situation. “I can’t make any promises, but I will hold off on contacting any parents. Do you have anyone who would be willing and able to pay for your release?”

“Um, I have one friend, but I don’t know if I can ask that of him. Even then, isn’t it obvious that I’d be in prison? A bail shouldn’t even be discussed right now!”

Seungmin just stared at the boy for a minute before groaning into his hands. “Jisung, you’re not going to prison for this,” he explained. “Based on your statement, you weren’t at fault in this situation at all, and you were protecting yourself in the best way you could given the circumstances. Whether you had told me your side or not, I will be receiving the security footage from that night and it will be evidence enough for any jury to show that you acted purely out of self defense.” 

“Oh.”

Jisung sat quietly for a second. “Can you tell me what will happen after that?”

Seungmin blinked before continuing. “Since I have both a statement from you and video evidence to prove the truth, I doubt you’ll even need to attend a trial. I’ll meet with a judge and we’ll figure out your sentence, you’ll serve it, and then you can continue life as though this never happened.”

“That’s unlikely,” the younger boy snorted. “I highly doubt I’ll ever forget this, but thank you for the sentiment.”

The air stilled around Seungmin and Jisung as they digested each other’s words, and Seungmin was the first to get up. “I still have a bit of paperwork to finish before the guys arrive, so I suggest you make yourself at home. You said you haven’t eaten all day, right?”

Jisung nodded, looking up to see Seungmin on his phone. “Yeah, why?”

The officer barely glanced up from his conversation with Chan to ask. “Do you like Chinese food? We both need to eat, and I’m not about to go out to get something this late.”

“I don’t have a preference,” Jisung said. He fiddled more with the keychain, tapping his belt buckle with some of the little tags. 

Seungmin nodded and finished dialing the takeout number he found buried in his papers. “Great, I’ll order something. It’s still just us for a few hours so I can answer any questions you have while I do my work, and your laptop should arrive soon enough so you can do your things.” 

He grinned at Jisung one more time before bringing his index finger up to his lips. The younger boy looked away while he placed an order, and when Seungmin turned to his paperwork for the third time that night he let himself drown in the comfortable silence of the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope y’all have an amazing day and week!! maybe i’ll be back again soon ^-^ sending lots and pots of love for all of you lovely amazing people~! 💓💓💞💕💓💞💘💞💝💘💖💗💗💘💕💕💗💝💓💝💓


	3. not a chapter - pls read

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know there's only like 5 people who will see this update but I hope you'll read it <3

I was debating writing this for a the whole day but I think it's the only proper thing I can do, especially considering the content of what I've written and will write in the future for this fic. I hope you will read this whole thing but I understand if you aren't that invested in this. If you don't have the energy to read this, here's a rundown of what I am saying:

\- I'm changing the setting of this fic; it no longer takes place in this world, it'll be some made up city.  
\- ACAB and BLM are things I stand by. This fic is not realistic, especially not in America, and I don't support any police officers in real life.  
\- There are two epidemics in the USA: COVID-19 and racism.  
\- Everyone who benefits from the racist society we live in has a duty to fight for the rights of those who are marginalized and oppressed.  
\- I have resources listed at the end, please sign a few petitions before leaving.

The whole explanation:

I'm going to dive right into this. This fic is honestly really problematic considering the state of the country I live in (USA), and the state it has always been in. I'm sure, or I hope, that anyone reading this has at least caught a mention of the riots and injustice in America stemming from the police force. In my opinion, the fact that I wrote this story without addressing or acknowledging the obvious issues in the system I live with is ignorant to a certain degree and I can't continue writing this fic without making clear both my views and what I mean to convey through this message.

I'm an Indian American (my parents immigrated here from India, I was born here). I was brought up with the constant knowledge that the police are there to help me, that they are who to go to if I see something wrong. I hope you'll excuse my bluntness and my language, but I'm saying right now that that is bullshit for a huge, insanely important group of people. I have benefitted from the model minority myth, but black people across America are persecuted at a disgustingly high rate for no reason other than their skin color. The police force is an inherently racist organization that has no legal obligation to protect citizens in any circumstance. They are law enforcement in the most literal sense. Cops leave behind morality on the job.

I know I set this fic in Seoul earlier, but if I'm being honest I was kind of playing it by ear and relying on the fact that I could pass this off as taking place in my own little world and make up my own laws, and not admit that I didn't do my research. My plan was to use what little I know about the American legal system and mend it with my own logic to create this perfect little world for this story to take place in, but in doing so I would willingly be giving way to my ignorance and pretending there's a merit to how this country is run. Maybe y'all wouldn't see it that way, but it would haunt me. Since I've become increasingly aware of why this is obviously not the best choice, I've decided I'm instead going to do as most fiction does and just make this world up. I'm going to go back and edit previous chapters with made up town names and whatnot, and this will officially take place in some ambiguous country that will likely never exist. I'm probably making a mountain out of a molehill here but I just want to clarify that the change will be made.

Now that I've gotten the matters of this fic out of the way, I want to address the reality of this flaw in our society. Not everyone reading this has been directly affected by the riots in America, or the murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, Tamir Rice, Tony McDade, and countless more, all black citizens that were killed for living in their skin. It might not affect you, but these murders were the result of flaws that run deep in society in this world as a whole, and even deeper here. Racism affects all of us, and it's killing black people around the world at a rate that anyone with a heart would see is abhorrent. I know we can't all take as much action as possible; I personally can't attend protests or donate without the permission of my parents, and I'm not alone in that. But signing petitions, sharing news, spreading information to keep everyone safe, these are all things anyone can do to help! Listen to people's stories, let the voices of people who have experienced these injustices speak louder than anyone else. Use your privilege, especially white/white-passing privilege, to raise the voices of victims of this oppression. Support movements like BLM (Black Lives Matter) and ACAB/1312 (All Cops Are Bastards - I will be linking a thread as to why that is always true in this country) and not ones that limit progress like ALM and the police force. I'm going to link twitter threads with information, history, and petitions at the end of this post, that include places to donate if you have that ability. There is so much work to be done, but every little bit counts.

And please, please, please don't treat black people like some kind of encyclopedia for how to handle yourself when talking about anti-racist activism. Do your own research, put effort into it, and listen to first-hand accounts that people have voluntarily offered. Your black friends have no obligation to explain anything to you, and you do not have the right to ask that of them. There are lots of resources to research how to fix your mindset and break free of any misinformation you've been fed through your life.

Thank you so much for reading my note! When I post the next chapter, I'll shorten this and put it as a disclaimer before the whole fic along with all the links, but for now it'll stay here. I hope you will all take a minute out of your day and sign the petitions! It's the absolute least anyone could do.

With lots of love, RV <3

Twitter Threads -

[petitions and places to donate](https://twitter.com/kookpics/status/1265927090588856320)

[ways to demand justice for George Floyd with resources for international activism](https://twitter.com/sunfIowerkissy/status/1265739296838946816) (like the previous but more expansive and informative)

[say their names](https://twitter.com/HYUCKHE1SM/status/1265805271294754816) \- a list of black people who lost their lives to police brutality and racism in the system. they are more than a number, more than a statistic, and this list is nowhere near complete:   
-> not included are Tony McDade, an American black trans man, and Regis Korchinski-Paquet, a Canadian black woman, both who were murdered after this list was posted.

[a list detailing the violence against the black trans community in 2019 alone](https://www.hrc.org/resources/violence-against-the-transgender-community-in-2019)

[anti-racism resources for white people](https://twitter.com/MsPackyetti/status/1265314497151078402)

[why ACAB is true regardless of who an officer is](https://twitter.com/aislineep/status/1266062823513133062)

[what you can do as a non-black person to support the BLM movement](https://twitter.com/byersfilms/status/1265768645990526988)

[background on the black power fist](https://twitter.com/WellReadSquid/status/1266115553669910534)

This is the official donation link for the Minnesota Freedom Fund; they do NOT have a venmo account and have made an announcement that a venmo account in their name is currently a scam. If you can donate, do it here: <https://minnesotafreedomfund.org/donate>

This is a bail fund for protesters who were arrested in Atlanta, Georgia: <http://atlsolidarity.org/>

For anyone who is protesting or knows someone who is planning on protesting in Chicago, Indianapolis, or Louisville, this is a twitter thread for legal assistance if necessary: <https://twitter.com/DerrickMorgan91/status/1266701197932523520>

For protesters again, medical advice for you or anyone who needs it: <https://twitter.com/medicaIchemist/status/1266261613453041667>


End file.
